


The One With The Dogs

by rosyrotten



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Dogs, F/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 00:29:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1760737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosyrotten/pseuds/rosyrotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is probably, unfortunately, how Rom Coms get started. And, of course, it involves a dog. Batman!Damian/Batgirl!Steph</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One With The Dogs

**Author's Note:**

> Based in a happy, future New 52 AU where Damian is alive and Batman and Steph (and Cass) are both Batgirl following the honorable retirement of Babs. How did this happen? I don't know I just wanted to write fluff and puppies.

Only five scant hours after collapsing on his bed, Damian was woken by drool on his face. Even as he reached up his hand to push his attacker away, his palm received an enthusiastic licking. He groaned.

“ _Down_ , Dick, off the bed,” Damian moaned, pushing himself half-upright as the puppy bounced back and around in circles on the covers. Dick, much like his namesake, was much too excitable first thing in the morning. Meanwhile, Damian, at the tender age of eighteen and after an extensive night of Batman-ing still required ten hours sleep minimum. Not that he ever got it. The black Labrador sat back on his haunches and panted, bright eyes fixed on Damian, silently pleading his innocence. Damian frowned, but it seemed to do nothing to discourage Dick, who merely wagged his tail harder.

“ _Off_ the bed,” Damian said again, stern dog training voice engaged, pointing to the floor. From the carpet, Titus raised his heavy head with a whine, admired them both and lay back down again, thoroughly uninterested. Dick barked and seemed to grin at him.

As Damian twisted in bed to place his feet on the floor and sit up fully, he was suddenly struck by a memory of the night before. They’d come out of a meth lab raid reasonably unscathed, Batgirl and he, culprits trussed up for the GCPD and watched the firefighters put out the last of the spot fires. Batgirl, the blonde heir to retired Barbara’s cowl ( _not_ the dark, quiet one) had turned to him, eyes shining and smiling and leant in. She’d kissed him, once and chaste, pulled back with a grin and leapt off the roof into the night.

Damian flexed his hands where his gauntlets would stretch tight across his fists and remembered the coy way she’d said ‘ _see you later, Batboy_ ’.

Dick head butted him from behind, growling affectionately and Damian sighed, and rose from bed. “Fine, fine, walk it is.” God forbid that anyone ever found out Batman could be bullied by a puppy named after his former mentor and eldest brother. God forbid that anyone found out Batman even _owned_ a puppy named after _Nightwing_.

He took a moment to pull on his most decent pair of sweatpants and least offensive t-shirt and set out for the kitchen. Even Alfred wasn’t bustling around yet which truly spoke to the early hour. Damian laid out food for every member of his varied menagerie (and there were many these days) and whistled when he located Dick’s leash. The black puppy came hurtling around the corner and into his arms.

✽

The park Damian picked for their jog was probably the last good park in Gotham. Green leafy trees lined paved stone walkways and grass slopes lay in open contrast to the grey skyscraper spires at every corner. There were no drug dealers, muggers or any other unsavory types. Batman had seen to that.

It was a warm day, overcast but light enough to make the trees glow green in a way that Poison Ivy might even appreciate. He didn’t listen to music while running but kept a takeaway coffee cup balanced evenly as he moved along the footpaths. Damian slowed after an hour, reckoned by the movement of the sun and his own internal clock, to allow Dick to catch his breath. However, his puppy came with endless energy and bounded on the end of his leash.

At a loud noise, Damian’s attention was stolen momentarily. But he relaxed, noting it was nothing more than an elderly lady shrieking with laughter on her mobile phone.

With a sick feeling, Damian felt the tension in the leash go slack. Since he’d adopted the pup, the damn thing had a habit of pulling a Houdini on almost every leash Damian strapped him into. “Hey, _hey_ ,” Damian yelled after the black dog merrily sprinting through the park. He cursed and ran after him.

Damian skidded to a halt as Dick leapt up to greet a stranger. Damian blinked and slowed down to a walk. _Of all the places and all the times_ , he thought, no displeased. The woman in front of him laughed loudly, leaning forward to scoop Dick into a hug, as he eagerly jumped up to get his paws all over her. Dick wiggled from her arms, twisting away to engage the woman’s dog, a slightly smaller Border Collie yapping and bouncing to and fro. With her own dog’s leash wrapped around her ankles, the young woman wobbled unsteadily and before he could stop himself, Damian had reached out to catch her, their hands clasped to each other’s forearms.

She looked up, grinning. “Hi,” she laughed again as Dick tackled the other dog playfully and they rolled away, pulling her in the opposite direction. Damian scowled.

“Come here, you,” he muttered, forcefully pulling Dick back towards him and crouching to reattach the leash. Dick whined, tucking his head to his chest sheepishly. Also like his namesake, Dick did always have a way of making a beeline to the ladies. The ‘swooning into his arms business’ worked much better for the dog than the man though, Damian noted with a smirk.

He realized he was bent at one knee at the lady in question’s feet and when he looked up, she was still smiling, fairly bemusedly, down at him. Damian stood, feeling his cheeks briefly flush.

“What’s your little one’s name?” she asked. Damian glared down at Dick who was now sprawled on his back in the grass, the young woman’s Border Collie looking on, unimpressed. _Not sure about_ little _, anymore_ , Dick groused internally.

“Dick,” he replied, she frowned and hurriedly added, “Richard. He just gets Dick at home. I mean, gets _called_ Dick at home.” Damian stamped down on the urge to bury his face in his hands, or even better whack his head into a tree a couple of times.

“Smooth,” the young woman laughed and Damian grimaced, but waved his hand to indicate she supply the same information. “This is Timmy, like ‘what’s that, Timmy’s fallen down the well?’”

“Shouldn’t it be Lassie, then?”

She blinked at him owlishly. “What?”

“The dog from the television show you are referencing was actually Lassie. Timmy was a little boy and he never once fell down a well. It’s a made up line of unknown origin falsely promoted by various pop culture—why are you laughing?”

The young woman was doubled over, practically in hysterics. “You’re a riot,” she finally gasped out and Damian’s face fell into a deep scowl until he realized she wasn’t laughing at him. Not maliciously, anyway. She crouched down next to her dog and cooed, “how do you feel about the name Lassie?” Timmy looked away, decidedly unimpressed.

Damian took a moment to appreciate the woman in front of him. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, revealing the barest traces of sweat across the back of her neck. She was dressed appropriately for a morning dog-walk-and-run, though her leggings were garishly purple and clashed with the neon green of her shoes. Overall, she appeared athletic, in her early twenties and pretty, in a strong, indelicate way. There was something comfortingly familiar about the ease with which she held herself and the careless energy in her limbs.

When she stood and straightened, she held out her hand for him to shake. “Steph,” she said by way of introduction. Damian immediately took her hand in his, impressed by the firmness of her grip.

“Damian; pleasure to meet you, Stephanie.”

“Just Steph. With friends,” she held his hand a beat longer and he was sure, objectively, this was the moment when something more was supposed to be said. Something else was to be exchanged, and here he was missing the cue. When she released him, disappointment flickered across her face and Damian swallowed around the lump in his throat, mindfully slowing his quickened heartbeat.

Her phone went off in her pocket and Steph smothered a shriek, reaching for it. “Oh, _shit_ ,” she said empathetically and looked at Damian in apology. “I gotta run, see you around?”

Damian nodded, not quite managing a smile as Steph tugged on Timmy’s leash, pulling him away from Dick’s inquisitive pawing. He waved as she dashed off through the park, Timmy easily keeping pace. Dick barked, sitting prettily at Damian’s feet and the human raised an eyebrow at his canine partner.

“I don’t want to hear that from you,” Damian said tartly as Dick barked again. The dog seemed to grin in his own doggy way.

✽

The night was cool and the clouds threatened rain, but work was work and Batman’s work (for the third night in a row) involved in input of a very blonde, very noisy, fidgety female partner. Batgirl sighed and shifted in her crouch for the fifth time in the last twenty minutes. It wasn’t like Damian enjoyed stake outs any more than she did, but at least he could sit still. He glanced over at her. “What’s wrong with you, do you need to use the bathroom again?”

She made a face. “Cramp in my foot,” Batgirl said, wiggling the offending limb at him in response. He huffed derisively, but didn’t reply.

Moments later, Batgirl fidgeted again before leaning into his personal space. Before he could say something she was making a show of checking the ears on his cowl and humming.

“What are you doing?” Damian growled, deepening the Batman voice further.

“’What are you doing?’” she mimicked immaturely, sitting back on her heels, eyes sparkling, “checking for fleas; you can never be too careful.”

Damian was stunned, before he grinned to himself. He reached over and pinched her shoulder through the armor of the Batgirl uniform. When she gasped, offended, he said, “Dog hair. You should really be more careful, _Fat_ girl.”

Damian was still laughing when Batgirl, justifiably, pushed him over the edge of the roof.

But, to his great satisfaction, she blew him a kiss as he fell. 


End file.
